University of Virginia Library

ACT III.

SCENE I.

The Portico and Ayles in the Temple of Vesta.—The Vestals and Inferior Pontiffs, in white robes, ranged on each side.
Enter Lavinia, Julia, Valeria, and Attendants, on one side; Valerius, with inferior Pretors, and Lictors, on the opposite side.
The Chief Vestal walks through the midst, bearing the sacred fire in a silver censer.
Valer.
Reach forth the sacred flame!
[Takes it from the Vestal.
Lavinia, stand before us!—Now to make
Your last election—Chuse this holy fire,
Or yield you to the wishes of your friends!

Lavin.
Give me the vow, my Lord!

Valer.
Suppose your father, Fabius, should approve
This offer'd partner—by the laws of Rome,
You are at his disposal.

Lavin.
My Lord, my father, Fabius, did, long since,
Confirm my plighted vows to your Favonius,
When, in the semblance of a Roman knight,
His valour rescued me from violation.

Valer.
By this dread fane, and its presiding power,
I rather, with a torch in either hand,
Would light your funeral pyres, than see you join'd
To Junius Cimbrius!

Lavin.
I also swear, that were the pit now yawning,
Where vestals have deplored their broken vows,
I rather would descend the mortal steps,
To lay me in the griesly arms of death,
Circled with horrors and eternal darkness,
Than wed another!

Valer.
O, to the last perverse!—Then take thy destiny!
Begin the solemn rites.

[Gives her the fire.
Lavinia bearing the censer in her right hand, is led by Valerius, and followed by Julia and Valeria, the Pretors, &c. in slow procession into the Temple.

SCENE II.

Valerius returns alone.
Valer.
Had she not seen him—or, would he consent
To wed another—hope might yet revive,
And bring new blossoms forth—Must he fix here,
Where my whole soul was seal'd?—from infancy,
I had decreed her mine.
Curs'd chance!—why did they meet?—or, rather, why
Have I thus fostered a young pelican,
Who tears my bosom, and who drinks my blood?
I gave him life—my life he takes away,
By heart-distending tortures!

SCENE III.

Favonius enters.
Favon.
O, my Lord—
Lavinia made a votary of Vesta!
She cannot, sir, she must not—'twere a breach
Of laws divine and human! She is mine,
My sworn, my plighted bride, my soul's espous'd,
By every band that can retain the universe
From sinking into chaos!

Valer.
Sir, those bands
Might have been somewhat firmer, had they claim'd
The sanction of a father's hand!

Favon.
'Tis true—
I own it, my dread lord!—but then there was not,
Or time, or place, or possibility
Of suit, for that dear sanction. At first interview,
Our conscious looks exprest the mutual stroke
Of fated love—together rush'd our souls,
Like meeting streams no more divisible,
Since each was lost in the other!—

Valer.
Darest thou, then,
Avow, nay, vindicate thy breach of duty?

Favon.
But to solicit pardon for a fault
Inevitable—where my will itself
Had lost all power, so suddenly made captive!
O, if you ever felt the sickening passion,
Have pity!—if you ever felt the sense
Of human frailty, pardon!—On my knee
Thus prostrate, catching, grasping at your clemency—
If, in the bridal arms of my chaste mother,
You ere knew transport—if your parent heart
Knew meltings, when she brought your first born forth,
And gave a little self into your arms,
Have mercy!—O, restore my heart's sole love,
My indivisible, who, in the parting,
Pulls with her life itself!

Valer.
Favonius, rise—
Rise, my dear child!—I call the gods to witness,
That were the universe at my disposal,
There is but one thing in that universe,
I would refuse to Cimbrius!—Such a father
May merit some concession, sure—some proof
Of filial reverence, of filial love!

Favon.
Put me to instant trial—let it be
To pass the flame! to scale the dizzy pinnacle!
Or, in the wrath and whirling of the tempest,
To plunge unto the bottom of the deep,
And bring the pearl of your desires to light,
Or perish!—

Valer.
I pity poor Valeria,
But plead for her no more!—Look round, my son—
Search the expanded world, for highest excellence,
For highest station—all my powers shall be
Exerted for you—all my wealth pour'd forth,
As water on the flooded beach, to swell
The spring-tide of your bliss!

Favon.
O, sir—Lavinia—

Valer.
Away, away! the bars are infinite,
Insuperable!—But, I well perceive,
Proud, stubborn boy, because in this, alone,
I would oppose, 'tis, therefore, thou art obstinate,
Rebellious!—

Favon.
Drive me not to desperation!—
You may repent, and soon!

Valer.
Yes—I have heard
Of thy intrigues amongst the frantic legions—
Go, traitor—turn their swords upon thy country,
As did the champion of Corioli!—
What lets, but I see justice done upon thee,
As Marius did upon his nobler boy?

Favon.
Bowels of flint, inclosed in frost indissoluble!
You have burst my heart strings—torn the bleeding band
Of kindly nature, the dear tender cords
Of father and of child!—Why, be it so!—
Henceforth, I cast all duty to the winds,
To the wild winds, to perish on the rocks,
Or freeze in Zembla!—O, adieu for ever!

[Exeunt severally.

SCENE IV.

The House of Fabius.
Fabius enters.
Fab.
What, vanish'd all!—Where are my servants, ho!
Who waits?

A Domestic enters.
Dom.
My Lord!

Fab.
Where is your mistress?

Dom.
Sir, your brother, the Great Pontiff, led our lady,
Valeria, and Lavinia, to the Temple—
And left us to deplore the sad event!

[Retires.

SCENE V.

Terentia enters.
Fab.
Terentia, welcome!—you are much a stranger!—
I sent for you this morning.
Come to my arms, Terentia—If report
Be verified, I shame to see you, sister!—

Teren.
What report, my Lord?

Fab.
My friend, Tubero,
Seized by a fatal illness, sent, in haste,
To beg a parting interview—meanwhile,
The Pontiff, and my wife, took our Lavinia,
To fix her in the Temple of dread Vesta.

Teren.
He dare not do it—though he were invested
With all the powers of all the magistrates
That overbear the state! Lavinia is
A flight above the soaring of a Pontiff—
She is Patrician, the first blood in Rome—
A strain that rises o'er the loftiest wing
Of the Valerii!

Fab.
Wherefore this, Terentia?

Teren.
Because I know, my Lord, that your Lavinia,
The flower of Latium's garden, the fair sum
Of nature's sweets, Heaven's highest finish'd work,
Is your own child—
The noblest offspring of the noblest line
Of the most honour'd Fabii!

Fab.
Thou art frantic!

Teren.
No! I shall quickly solve this short enigma.
Soon after my fair sister, your Lavinia,
Blest your fond arms, and your friend Marcellus
Receiv'd me to his bosom, you were both
Summon'd to war, and left us pregnant: I
Brought forth a son, and your beloved Lavinia
A daughter.

Fab.
How?

Teren.
Be patient, yet, my Lord!—
We lived together then. My lovely sister
Had often heard your strong and ardent wishes,
That you might have a son, who should inherit
The fame and virtues of your line.—Lavinia,
Fond to indulge the wishes of her Fabius,
Proposed a change of children.—I assented,
And took your infant daughter to my breast;
While, on your famed re-entry into Rome,
Lavinia gave to your triumphant arm
My little Fabius. Know you this character?
[Produces a tablet.
Upon her latest couch, your parting angel
Gave me this tablet; and requested me,
When time or sudden exigence required,
To yield it to your hands.

Fab.
It is, it is
Her precious character!—To my lips, first—
My heart—and, in my spirit,
Rest for ever!
[Pressing the tablet to his lips and bosom.
Celestial creature, O, divine Lavinia!
To what hast thou abandon'd thy fond Fabius—
Fallen from his state of highest bliss, to dwell
With endless altercation?

Teren.
Read, my Lord,
Pray read!
The dying Lavinia to her Fabius,

“Let my Lord pardon a once pleasing imposition;
and take to his arms my true and living
daughter, for the dead Fabius, son of my sister
Terentia.”

She is, she is my own—my heart foreknew it—
My child, my child Lavinia!—where, where is she?—
O, I remember now!—Where are ye all?
Servants enter.
Fly to the Temple! bid Julia instant home,
Or never meet the sight of Fabius more!

[Exeunt Servants.
Teren.
Your wish is gratify'd—
She comes, my Lord.—

SCENE VI.

Julia and Valeria enter.
Fab.
Where have you left Lavinia?

Julia.
In the Temple.

Fab.
By whose decree?

Julia.
Your own, this very morning,
If she held future commerce with Favonius.

Fab.
Madam, you must not forward my decree,
Without my privity.—Return and bring her!

Julia.
She is already consecrate—I cannot—
Nor would I, if I could!

Fab.
How!

Julia.
I say, I would not!

Fab.
Where are the keys?

Valeria.
Ah, sir! what mean you by that question?—Sure
You would not, in a start of blinded passion,
You would not fix dishonour on my mother,
By a divorce?

Julia.
Go, foolish girl!—divorce?—
Yes—when he chuses to divorce my fortunes,
The pomp and high alliance which I brought him,
And be again the mate of poverty!

Valeria.
Restrain yourself, my mother!

Fab.
Where are the keys?

Julia.
The servant has them—
Junia!

Servant enters.
Serv.
My lady!

Julia.
Our master wants the keys.
[Delivers the keys to Julia.
Here—will you have them?—Think better!—haply,
I may not, suddenly, be in the humour
To take them back again.

Fab.
Resign the keys.

[As Fabius offers to take the keys, Valeria interposes.
Valeria.
Good my Lord, patience!—My honour'd mother,
Make due submission!

Fab.
Your proud brother, too,
Was in this business—the imperious Pontiff—
His dignities ill-suited!—He shall feel
The power of him he dares to injure thus!—
I wish he were removed for ever!

Julia.
He shall know your wish.

Fab.
Do me that pleasure—I abjure ye all,
The wealth-exalted, self-important race
Of the Valerii!—Give me up the keys!

Julia.
You will not, dare not take them—the acceptance
Will crush you into nothing!—Throughout Rome,
Five hundred years have told not five divorces!—
You dare not fasten such disgrace upon me!

Fab.
Yes—let it fix, a badge upon the pride
Of your imperious overbearing house!
Give me my keys!—I will send back your dower,
With added trash—a cheap and glad exchange
For the dear treasure of domestic quiet!

Julia.
Enough—I yield them, thus!—
[Dashing them on the floor.
Yet know, lost man,
I loved thee—by the gods, I loved thee, Fabius!
Come away, girl!—

[Exeunt Julia and Valeria.
Fab.
Go—call her back!—
Yet, tarry—let her pass!

SCENE VII.

Enter Favonius.
Favon.
Justice, great Fabius!—thou, who art renown'd
For more than justice—for the soul of honour—
For the kind meltings of humanity!

Fab.
Cimbrius!—
I would do much to serve the hope of Rome,
The hope and honour of my country!—But
Thy father hath wrong'd Fabius—greatly wrong'd him!—
Soon we convene the Senate, to resolve
Whether a virgin, a free citizen,
The daughter of a senatorial house,
The last surviving offspring of their Fabius,
Rent from my arms, and my protecting roof,
Shall be detained with daring violation!

Favon.
Our wrongs, like our complaints, unite—I am robb'd
Of my dear plighted bride; and you, my lord,
Of your adopted daughter!

Fab.
Adopted—sayst thou?—
Far nearer than adopted—my own offspring!

SCENE VIII.

Terentia
enters.
Terentia will confirm it.

Favon.
Terentia?—
O my kind hostess, give me still your friendship!

Terent.
Thou son of glory, of Terentia's soul—
Come to my aged arms!
[Embraces him.
You owe, my lord,
This youth, far more than language can express,
Or gratitude repay!—
His unexampled prowess saved our child
From utter loss, from brutal violation.

Fab.
Spite of the hated race from whence thou'rt sprung,
Thy virtues, Cimbrius, have endear'd thee to me!

Favon.
O, then, confirm the vows of my Lavinia!

Fab.
I do, before the gods!—Upon the morrow,
The Senate shall restore me to my child,
And you to your—

Favon.
Alas, my lord! to-morrow
She may be past recall!—this present night,
This hour, secure the gift—this very instant!
Could I find means to bear her to the camp,
She were my own, against the world in arms!

Fab.
Then, take thy wish—Come to my cabinet—
And to thy glory may the gods add peace!

[Exeunt